Cleav's next words were precise and raw-edged. "Tell her I hope that she's happy about getting what she wanted."
Wearing the white,charity basket castoff of Sophrona Tewksbury, Esme Crabb, head held high, proudly made her way down the mountain to get married.
"It'll be fine," she whispered quietly to herself. "I'll make him real happy. I'll be the best wife a man ever had," she vowed. Just exactly how she was going to accomplish that was not yet clear, but if determination was enough, she would succeed.
Her father's face was worried but determined. Yo had never told her any of the private discussion he'd had with Cleav. But he hadn't needed to. Esme could read disapproval in every line of his face.
She'd been so foolish! She berated herself, not for the first time. This wasn't what she'd wanted. Although marriage to Cleavis Rhy had been her aim for weeks, she hadn't planned on a scandal or an unwilling husband.
Pearly Beachum had caught her off-guard. With honesty as her natural bent, she'd blurted out the truth when a lie would have better served. Looking back, she'd rather have had the whole congregation believe she was stealing from Rhy's store than bring disgrace to him. Nor did she wish to tarnish the shining hope that the fancy, store-bought garters had represented. Remembrance brought a blush to her cheek and the precious pieces of pink and white to mind. She could feel them now fitting smooth and snug against her thighs. Even in her current confusion, a warmth of tenderness suffused her, and a tiny smile quivered at the side of her mouth. It was the sweetest gift she had ever received. Surely, he must care for her. Surely, he must care a little.
As the church came into sight, she became even more apprehensive. Her forehead broke out in beads of sweat.
"He must care a little!" she said in a desperate whisper. "Please God, I'll never ask for anything else!"
Adelaide and Agrippa, however, were bothered by neither the finality of her marriage nor the circumstances leading to her proposal. Primped and pretty, they were giddy with excitement. For them weddings were the most fun party of all, and certainly the twins had the best chance of catching the wedding bouquet.
"That'd mean that we'd marry next," Adelaide cheerfully informed her father.
Yo did not seem particularly taken with the idea. "How soon is next?" he asked with a disagreeable frown.
"As soon as Armon asks us!" Agrippa answered with a near shriek of delight. And the two young women shared a laughing embrace as they hurried ahead to the church.
Crabb hesitated, touching Esme's shoulder lightly to stop her progress. "I agreed to this wedding 'cause I's thinking it were your idea," he said evenly as he studied his daughter. "If you're afeared of this man or you changed your mind, just say so."
Even in her anxious state, Esme managed a smile for her father. Pa was lazy and practically worthless, but she never doubted his love for her.
"Marrying Cleavis Rhy is going to put us in clover, Pa," she answered with more enthusiasm than she felt at the moment. "We're going to move into that big fine house and eat regular year-round."
He shook his head dubiously. "Esme-girl, I'd never be able to choke down a bite if I thought the food was bought with your misery."
Esme managed a halfhearted chuckle. "Being married to a rich, handsome man is the kind of misery most girls dream of," she bantered playfully.
"But you sure ain't most girls," Yohan said. "Besides, marriage is more than dreams. Living with the wrong person, even when you love them, can be a world of grief. And truth to tell," he added, "the word love ain't never fallen from your lips that I can remember."
Esme forced out a little giggle that didn't quite ring true. "I love you and the twins, Pa. I respect the man who's to be my husband. I think that's enough."
Her father shrugged doubtfully. "Respect ain't much comfort in a wedding bed."
Her face flaming scarlet, Esme swallowed the spurt of anxiety and fear as if it were a tangible thing.
"I'll do my duty," she said bravely.
Yo nodded. "I never doubted it," he admitted. "But bedding a man ain't always easy for a woman."
Esme paled slightly.
"I never talked of such with you girls, 'cause it just didn't seem fitting," he said, showing signs of paternal awkwardness. "But if you are going to walk into that church and marry up, I want to be sure that you know what you're doing."
There was silence between them for a moment.
"I want to marry him," Esme whispered.
"You want to bed him?"
Esme nodded. "I ain't never," she confessed. "But when he kisses me, I… I want more."
She'd lowered her eyes with shame, but her father grasped her chin in his hand and raised it to look down into her face.
